


The Letters We Sent

by hopefulfridays



Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Memories, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26077144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulfridays/pseuds/hopefulfridays
Summary: Sophie and Meliora find some old love letters in the attic at Killewarren.
Relationships: Dwight Enys/Caroline Penvenen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	The Letters We Sent

**Author's Note:**

> I always wanted to know what was in Caroline and Dwight's first letters to each other when she returned to London after their first kiss. WG gave us a little from Caroline; I have invented my own.

Meliora Enys hurtled down the staircase at Killewarren, following her elder sister as fast as her legs could carry her. Sophie was tall and long limbed like her mother, so Meliora always found herself in pursuit, even when she had a head start. She supposed it was only right though, Sophie was the elder sister, after all.

”Mama, Papa, look what we found!”

The girls burst into the small drawing room, where their parents were taking their afternoon tea. It was a cold and gloomy Saturday, despite the calendar stating it was spring, and none of the Enys family had ventured outside. The girls had decided to search the attics for treasure to pass the afternoon. What their definition of treasure was, they weren’t quite sure, but they were certain they would know it when they found it. And so it had proved. 

Sophie waved a wad of papers in front of her father’s nose. On closer inspection, Dwight saw that it was a bundle of letters, tied with a blue ribbon. Not to be outdone, Meliora held out a similar bundle, this time tied with something that Dwight identified as medical twine.

Dr and Mrs Enys smiled at each other over their daughters’ heads. The ties that bound these letters gave away what they were, and the words within still gave each cause to melt a little even all these years later.

"Where on earth did you find these Sophie?" Dwight asked his elder daughter. 

"In a trunk in the attic Papa. We found some of your old dresses in it too Mama. A blue one with a little jacket, and a creamy one with lace on the sleeves. And two huge hats”

"Ah" said Dwight, smiling.

"These are Papa's and my letters to each other, from the time we first wrote to each other when we were young and falling in love” Caroline told her daughters, smiling at the memory.

"How romantic!" Sophie said, as she clasped her set of letters to her heart, and touched the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. "You must read them to us Papa, although I shall surely swoon"

Meliora, not to be outdone, said quickly “I shall swoon too!”

Dwight smiled and shook his head at them both, although he silently resolved to speak to their governess and find out just which books they were reading to give them such a love of the dramatic.

”Now my darlings, these are private letters, only for Mama and myself to read. One day when you are older you will understand”

"But I wish to hear how you wrote that you would simply die if you did not see each other soon, how your hearts had been pierced by cupid's bow, how you could not sleep for thinking of each other, how..."

Fortuitously, one of the Enys' maids came in to say that Mrs Bridges had made scones with jam and cream for the girls' afternoon tea, and she rushed Sophie and Meliora off to the kitchen, where they sat and peppered the kitchen staff with impassioned requests for their favourite dishes in the coming week.

The topic of conversation soon shifted when Clara, Caroline's maid had the misfortune to wander into the kitchen. Clara was then bombarded with questions about her "beau", Jameson. Jameson was a footman of long-standing at Killewarren. Just how the Enys girls knew about the romance between Clara and Jameson was a mystery to most, but not altogether unsurprising given their mother's lively interest not only in society, but also the lives of her staff, and her shrewd observations. Sophie and Meliora therefore were happy enough to forget their parents' letters, for the time being at least.

In their absence, Caroline moved to sit within the circle of Dwight's arm on the chaise, and together they removed the letters from their bindings, and read excerpts of the letters that they had poured all their emotions into all those years ago. Dwight read aloud,

_Dear Caroline,_

_I hope you had a safe journey back to London, and that you find the city diverting. Not too diverting however; I should hate to think you enjoy it’s distractions so much that you delay your return to Cornwall._

_Until that happy day, life here slowly continues, yet I find myself busy with my patients. One case is of particular interest to me, not least because the condition has bested me thus far. I generally do not shirk a challenge though, and am determined to find a treatment. My mind returns to this case often when I am alone in my cottage at night, and will likely do so until I find the remedy._

_~~~~~  
  
_

_Dear Dwight_

_I hope this finds you well and happy. To mirror your words, not too happy however; I should hate to think you do not miss me at all._

_I trust you have made progress in finding a treatment for your special case. Please tell me a little of the particulars, if you deem it proper; I am in need of some substantive diversion to offset the frivolity that surrounds me. How odd that that sentence comes from my pen! One might even believe that there is more to Caroline Penvenen than first impressions convey...  
  
_ _  
__~~~~~  
__  
_

_Dear Caroline_

_You_ _wonder_ _if I miss you. I most certainly do. I think of you constantly. This confession is likely not seemly nor wise coming from a man of my station to a woman of yours, and yet I feel I must tell you. My excuse, of course, is that I know so little of women and the secrets of their hearts, and I know you will forgive me. My only remaining unease therefore, is whether you miss me, even a little?_

_I picture you in London, at a ball or an assembly, and I wonder if you dance, and if so, with whom. Whilst I naturally do not wish unpleasant company on you, to my shame I cannot help but hope your partners are slow witted and uninteresting. I should very much like to dance with you, however on which occasion this may take place I do not know, moreover I do not wish to dwell on the unlikely nature of it._  
_  
In answer to your question, my patient’s name is Rosina Hoblyn, and she has a difficulty with her knee which still confounds me, and occasionally robs me of sleep._

~~~~~  
  


_Dear Dwight_

_I am sure Rosina Hoblyn will be eternally grateful for the attention you pay her knee. I am only sorry that my throat was so easily cured. It would have pleased me greatly to know that my affliction troubled you to the point of sleeplessness._

_London is diverting as ever. And yet...the drawing rooms of society hold little appeal to me presently and I find my mind wandering to the cliffs in Cornwall, and a certain inhabitant of a charming little cottage that perches there. You wished to know if I dance. I do indeed, with many of consequence. I find most suitors brash yet uninteresting - does this please you?_ _To dance with a man who means much to me would be both unprecedented and a sheer delight._ _  
_

_I trust by now you have gathered that_ _I miss you too. You will be glad to know that the company I am forced to keep in London only serves to make me long to return to Cornwall, although that is purely because you are in it. I think of you walking the cliffs to visit your patients, of you calling at Nampara to dine with your friends, but mostly I think of our meeting in the woods and our kiss. Am I too forward in my confession? It is no less the truth._

_Never has time in London passed so slowly._

_~~~~~_

_My darling Caroline,_

_Please rest assured that you do constantly trouble me to the point of sleeplessness. Happily for me, since you left Cornwall this last time and we have exchanged letters, the sleeplessness has a joyful quality, and I am certain that when I eventually fall asleep, I have a smile on my face._

_I am heartened to read that you dance with no one of importance to you. Forgive my presumption but I hope one day to remedy that._

_Please also know that as I walk the cliffs, I do so mindlessly. I see you in the woods standing in front of me. Your blue eyes, your golden hair, your sweet expression. And I feel my lips on yours. I very much wish to feel that sweet sensation again._

_Time passes no more quickly in Cornwall, Caroline.  
  
_

_~~~~~  
_  
_  
_ _Dearest Dwight,_

_I attended a supper this evening and found myself in the midst of several young men, none of whom were you. A more tedious evening I struggle to recall. I have no interest in the cut of a man’s suit, or the size of his estate, or how he won at cards the previous evening. To entertain myself I pictured you in your cottage, amongst your heavy medical books, your hair falling across your face, straying into your striking blue eyes. My mood lightened immediately._

_I swear time has slowed itself deliberately at the insistence of my uncle. I am not happy._

_~~~~~  
  
_

_My darling Caroline_

_Your vision of me at my studies was quite accurate, although I couldn’t comment on my hair or my eyes. The one facet of this particular vision that was not included in your letter, was the fact that after every two or three lines of text, I could not continue as I was distracted by thoughts of you.  
_

_Consequently my evenings of study involve very little learning. Perhaps when you return to Cornwall, and I am able to speak to you and hold you in my arms as I so long to do, I may be satisfied enough for my full concentration to return.  
_

_In the meantime, I remain exceptionally impatient to set my eyes on you once more._

_~~~~_  
  


_Dearest Dwight,_

_Oh joy! My return to Cornwall is set! Next Wednesday I shall arrive at Killewarren, although my uncle has no knowledge of it. I pray no foul pestilence sweeps Cornwall in the meantime, especially on Thursday, so you will have nothing to prevent you from meeting me in the woods.  
  
_

~~~~~

_My darling Caroline,_

_Nothing will prevent me from meeting you in the woods on Thursday._  
  


_~~~~~_

Dwight put down the letters and smiled.

"I will never forget our reunion in the woods. I still see you in your bright red riding habit, your hat in your hands. I had been so nervous all morning, but when I saw you my nerves instantly vanished and passion took over.."

"I will never forget it either. No greeting, no salutation, just a kiss. But what a kiss!” Caroline shivered at the memory of it. 

Dwight came to the next letter and replaced it in the bundle rather than read it. Caroline gave him a querying glance, took it and read it silently, her expression changing as she did so.

”Why ever did you keep this Dwight? These last few letters hold no fond memories, only heartache. I assumed you would have burnt them, especially this one” She held the letter which she had written, asking Dwight never to write to her again, after their failed elopement.

Dwight took her hand and kissed it.

”I kept it because bad memories or no, I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. It was your handwriting on the parchment, and it was your last communication with me. It was all that remained of our love at that time, and painful though it was, I could not destroy it”

Caroline kissed Dwight gently and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, before sighing. 

"We may have had a few impediments on our journey to marital bliss, but our destination has been worth it. We chose wisely and well" 

”Do you ever fear who our girls may choose to marry?” mused Dwight.

”For Meliora, no. She adores the ground on which you tread Dwight, so I am happily reassured she would never wish to marry a man her beloved Papa did not approve of. She will search the land for a high minded and dedicated intellectual who, in her eyes, will likely still come up short in comparison to you”

Dwight blushed, but he he couldn’t deny the truth of his wife’s words. Meliora was notoriously territorial where Dwight was concerned. From an early age, when the Poldark children came to visit, Meliora would attach herself to her father's arm or leg and stare ferociously at whichever Poldark child had the effrontery to take her father's attention. Caroline would laugh and simply say that she couldn’t blame her. Fortunately Meliora’s behaviour changed as she grew and had never really applied to Sophie, as she had adored her elder sister practically from birth. Her devotion to Dwight though, remained unchanged.

“However, ask me if I fear who Sophie may choose to marry? Absolutely” Caroline finished flatly.

Dwight laughed. “As do I. Sophie is an exact replica of you. And you made a marriage out of the common way for a woman of your standing, and your uncle disapproved of me...”

”So it is likely Sophie will want to go one better, all for the purpose of shock” replied Caroline. “I fear who may come knocking on the door of your study to ask for her hand. I am quite prepared for anyone from a smuggler, a miner from Sawle, a customs officer or a pirate. Perhaps even a parson if Sophie is in a completely contrary frame of mind. My worst fear is a rich, landed gentleman with impeccable manners who nonetheless has a whiff of danger about him, and is in fact a dreadful lothario. London, which Sophie finds so very diverting, is full of them. You may have to find your inner Ross Poldark, my love” 

"For Sophie and Meliora, I will find it with no difficulty. However you do Sophie and yourself a disservice my love. We have acknowledged she is exactly like you, and you saw straight through all manner of undesirable types, to my great benefit, almost immediately. It is highly probable she will too”

”True” Caroline affirmed. “We shall hope for a kind hearted smuggler then”

Dwight raised his eyebrows in alarm at her, knowing that she was only half jesting. 

“I’m not sure I have the emotional fortitude required to see our girls married Caroline”

”Nor I. For their sakes though, we will put on a magnificent performance, and then retire to our bedchamber to weep in each other’s arms”

”You paint a picture all too likely to take place” replied Dwight dryly.

The door burst open again, and their daughters ran into the room. They climbed onto their parents on the chaise, notwithstanding they were aged ten and eleven, and began to tell them the tale of Clara and Jameson. Caroline nodded and laughed, while Dwight shook his head and restrained himself from admonishing them for gossiping about the servants. Sometimes he just had to accept that he was outnumbered.

He wouldn’t have had it any other way.


End file.
